By Any Other Name
by colakirk
Summary: El has a shadow while she's doing chores around the house. Warning: Contains spanking, don't like, please don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning:** This fic contains **spanking** so if it's not your thing, please hit the back space now.

BY ANY OTHER NAME

El pulled the chocolate coloured cotton sheets from the bed in Neal's room. It had been a long time since she'd referred to it as the guest room. Neal's drawings on the wall, Neal's clothes in the cupboard, Neal's book on the side table. Neal still lived at June's but at some point during the past year, and El couldn't exactly remember when, the Burke Residence had also become the young con's home. El did however, remember fondly when the guest room had officially become Neal's room. Peter had been the first to refer to it as 'Neal's room' one night when Neal had been invited, along with June, for dinner. After a couple of glasses of wine, Neal had accidently let it slip that he had acquired a duplicate key for his tracking anklet. Peter had almost blown his top but before he reached boiling point he had barked at Neal, "Go to your room!" The two women had laughed as Neal rose from the table and headed up the stairs. And ever since, it had been the case that whenever Peter needed time to cool his heals over a Neal infraction, he would send the young man to 'his room'.

As El tossed the sheets into the hamper she heard someone opening the front door. It was a little late for lunch. Perhaps Peter needed some files he'd brought home. She walked to the top of the stairs and was surprised to see Neal coming through the inner door. "Hi Neal," she called down.

"Oh. Hi, Elizabeth. Didn't know you'd be home."

_Wow. That sounded awfully suspicious_. "I'm treating myself to a Friday off," El said proudly as she stepped down the stairs. She was about to give Neal a kiss when she noticed the beginnings of a bruise on Neal's left cheek. "What happened, Sweetie? Are you alright?"

"Of course. I'm fine thank you." Neal brushed it off.

El took in Neal's appearance. _Far from it young man._ "Come with me."

-W-C-

El pulled the jaquard sateen sheets off the queen bed in the master bedroom. Neal sat on the dresser stool holding an ice pack to his cheek - El had insisted. "How did you get here Neal? I hope you didn't catch a bus in your condition." El turned to give Neal a stern look with her eyes.

"No. Don't be silly. Peter had Jones drop me off," Neal replied matter-of-factly.

"So Peter had you brought here?" _Interesting. Peter didn't know I was taking the day off._

-W-C-

El shoved the sheets into the front-loader and set the machine for the time-saver cycle. "How did the case go this morning? You were down at the docks working a case with Organized Crime right?"

Neal was sitting up on the laundry bench. He had ditched the ice-pack before coming down to the basement. "That's right. Well it all went according to plan and it looks like the agency will have no trouble at all getting a conviction based on the evidence we've been able to put together in the last couple of weeks."

"Peter must be happy?" El went to pull some clean sheets down from the cupboard but was stopped by Neal who'd leapt off the bench.

"Here, let me get those for you."

"Thank you Sweetie." _Why wouldn't Peter be happy?_

-W-C-

El flung the sheet out across the queen bed towards Neal who was positioned on the opposite side. "Ruiz still heading the Organized Crime Division?"

Neal missed the catch and El had to pull the sheet back and toss it again. "Yes, Ruiz is in charge." El didn't miss Neal's distasteful tone when he spoke the name.

"Did he give you a hard time, Honey?" If El remembered correctly, Ruiz was a jerk.

Neal began to tuck the sheet under the mattress. "He really pissed me off Elizabeth. Peter told me to ignore him but for two weeks, two weeks I had to listen to one derogatory snide remark after another. Peter told him to back off but every time he wasn't around I'd cop a crappy pet convict statement and you'd have to be a saint not to have some type of reaction to that."

El had stopped tucking to listen to Neal's rant. It was out of character for Neal to lose his cool over something that he normally would have easily brushed off. _What's going on?_

-W-C-

El sprayed the bathroom basin with the Bath'nTile. She always held her breath and would stand in the hallway for a few moments while the potency of the smell subsided. "Did Ruiz say anything to you at the docks this morning?"

Neal was leaning on the door frame. He kicked at the bathmat in the doorway. "Peter was loading a suspect into the car and he sent me to grab one of the surveillance cameras I'd set up. Ruiz followed me into the shed and shoved me against the wall."

"Oh Sweetie. What did Peter do?"

"He didn't see it. Nobody did. It's okay Elizabeth. I get it that there will always be people who have a hang-up about me working for the Bureau. I actually understand that. I wouldn't be that way myself given a reversal of positions but I don't take it personally."

El believed Neal. She wiped away at the bench top now that it was safe to re-enter the bathroom. "So how did you react?" _After all Neal, a saint you are not!_

Neal removed the bath towels from the towel rack. "I'll take these down to the laundry and check on the load in the dryer."

"Thanks, Honey." _And then you can explain to me what two weeks of bullying cost Ruiz._

-W-C-

El squeezed the mop before sloshing the antibacterial water across the kitchen floor. "When Ruiz pushed you up against the wall, he also hit your face?"

Neal leaned up against the kitchen bench at the opposite end. "No."

"So how did you get that bruise on your cheek?"

Neal picked up the bucket. "I'll change the water."

"Neal…?"

"Ruiz hit me. But it wasn't at the dock. It was back at the office." Neal stepped out the backdoor to toss the dirty water. El held the mop waiting. _And so the plot thickens._

-W-C-

El sprayed the Windex onto the front feature windows. "Did you tell Peter that Ruiz had been bullying you?" She rubbed at a grotty mark that one of the boys had left on the glass pane – most likely Peter.

"A couple of times."

"But not this morning?"

"No." Neal was sitting sideways on the arm chair with his feet dangling over one of the arms. "I had it all covered. I don't need Peter to protect me Elizabeth." Neal spoke in a voice that tried to sound convincing but fell short. "I can take care of myself. Peter thinks he has to follow me around like I'm a toddler, fixing up all my mistakes. But you know what?" It was rhetorical. "I don't need a babysitter!"

"No, of course not Neal." Elizabeth's reply was also short of convincing. "So why did Ruiz hit you at the office?"

Neal spun his legs off the arm chair and stood up. "I'll put those sheets in the dryer."

El had also heard the seven dings indicating the end of the washing cycle coming up from the basement. She pulled the curtains back across the freshly wiped windows while at the same time watching the young man trot off downstairs. _What am I missing here?_

-W-C-

El had taken all the photos off the fireplace mantle and had already begun dusting when Neal returned from the basement.

"Peter must have been livid that Ruiz hit you."

Neal sat at the dining table nursing an ice-water. He'd poured one for Elizabeth. Hers sat untouched. "Peter was very angry." This much was certain, Neal thought back.

"I imagine Ruiz will be suspended. They'll be no excuse he could possibly offer. There would have been a number of witnesses?"

"He did it in full view of half the White Collar Unit. About twenty agents saw it. He made a scene first so it wasn't like people weren't already watching." Neal polished off his water. He was going to need something stronger. Much stronger!

"Well if anything good is to come of this, at least you won't have to work with him again. A blessing in disguise, perhaps." El placed all the photos back onto the mantle.

"Peter will see to it that we won't ever work together again." Neal spoke this more to himself. He got up to refill his glass. "Ruiz won't be suspended," the young man shot over his shoulder as he entered the kitchen_. Why the hell not!_

-W-C-

El pulled the warm sheets from the dryer and passed them to Neal who was beginning to fold. "Did Peter send you home because you were injured?" Neal's face didn't look too bad considering.

"No."

Neal took another sheet from the pile and continued folding. El rested up against the bench. "Peter would never send you home to be by yourself if he considered a knock to head to be serious."

"No.

"And if he thought of it as a minor injury, he'd sit you in his office and stick an ice-pack on it or send you back home to June's… He wouldn't have had you dropped off here."

"No.

El took the folded sheets off Neal and stored them neatly in the cupboard. She returned to lean against the laundry bench. There were no more sheets to be folded, floors to be moped or benches to be cleaned. Nothing left to do but to answer the question. "Neal?" The young man fiddled with his shirt cuffs until braving a sideways look in El's direction. "Neal. Why was Peter so angry with you, even after Ruiz hit you, that he literally sent you to your room? You're supposed to be waiting in your room right?"

"Yes."

"What did you do to Ruiz?"

Neal crossed his arms and leaned back against the bench so he was standing side by side with Elizabeth. After taking a deep breath he answered," I may have taken Ruiz wallet when he shoved me at the dock."

"Oh Neal! El shook her head trying to hold back a frustrated sigh. _What are we going to do with you?_

-W-C-

El placed two mugs on the coffee table and joined Neal on the couch. "Neal? What's got you so worked up sweetie?" Neal shrugged so El took a stab in the dark - although she felt she knew Neal so well by now it was more like a stab in broad daylight under fluorescent lighting. "You're upset about how Peter is going to handle your… transgression?"

"I know how he's going to handle it Elizabeth." Neal declared. "He was very clear at the office. Before he put me in the elevator with Jones, he reminded me to enjoy the car ride home as it would be a while before I'd be sitting comfortably again… As if I needed to hear that!" Neal looked down at his lap.

El placed a caring arm around Neal's shoulder. "You've been spanked by Peter, ….before." El wanted to say 'he smacks your backside every other month' but that would have been tactless and El had more class than that. "It hasn't bothered you like this so why is it different this time?"

Neal sunk further into the couch and looked away from Elizabeth. "The last time I got in trouble, Peter said that if I put myself in danger again, he would …"

"Would what Sweetie?"

"He would take his belt to me." Neal turned back but his eyes remained downcast.

"Oh." Elizabeth could only imagine how upset Peter must have been to threaten Neal with that. "But you didn't put your life in danger did you."

"No I didn't Elizabeth!"

"Then there's not that much to worry about is there?" Elizabeth patted Neal's thighs.

"Actually…he also said if I did anything to risk my going back to prison then it's the same deal."

"I see. Well, I know you absolutely should not have taken Ruiz wallet but maybe that can be taken care of ….somehow." She wanted to say swept under the carpet but Neal didn't need any encouragement.

"Yeah…I may have done something that made it a little difficult to keep it on the quiet." It was as if Neal had read her thoughts.

"What did you do Neal?" Her tone was quite firm this time.

Reluctantly Neal confessed. "I used Ruiz's credit card to order 15 pizzas to be delivered to the White Collar Unit, courtesy of Ruiz himself to thank us all for our hard work in wrapping up the case together." Neal finished with a small smile that Elizabeth did not return.

"YOU WHAT?"

"Okay so that may be the part that Peter is going to have a little difficulty overlooking."

"Oh Neal." Elizabeth rose from the couch shaking her head at the young man seated before her. "Wait till your father gets home."

"He's not my father Elizabeth!"

"Oh Honey, he's sent you home to your room, and when he gets here he's going to spank you and send you to bed early…You know what they say… A rose by any other name…"

"Doesn't smell sweet to me, Elizabeth..."

"…Smells like trouble with a capital T?" El finished the young con's thought.

_Wait till your father gets home indeed!_ And El left Neal sitting on the couch doing exactly that.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

El put a Louis Armstrong CD into the player and sat down at the table with her scrapbooking box. It had been ages since she'd had a chance to pull it out. Neal sat on the couch, sneaking a glance out the front window every time he didn't think El was looking. Eventually, after what seemed like hours for Neal but only minutes for El, Peter walked in through the front door, hanging his jacket coat up and heading over to his beautiful wife. "Hi El. You have a good day?"

"It was different." El reached up and kissed her husband. "I believe you had you had a doozie."

"That's one way to put it," Peter chuckled. "Where is he?"

"Well, until a few seconds ago, he was over on the couch but I'm pretty sure that was him I heard scurrying up the stairs as you came through the door. How about I make us a coffee while you tell me all about it?"

"That would be fantastic, thanks." Peter rested his elbows on the table and placed his head in his palms. "I could do with some Panadol if you pass any on the way to the coffee thanks, Hon. You had a day off?" Peter noticed the scrapbook box and all El's paperwork spread over the table for the first time.

"Yes. I treated myself."

El returned minutes later with two steaming coffees and a couple of headache tables for her husband. "So how did Ruiz know that Neal had used his card to order the pizzas?"

Peter shot his eyebrows up at his intuitive and amazingly intelligent wife. She still had the ability to surprise him every day. "Neal told you?"

"Some. Other parts were easy enough to guess. From what I've been able to gather between the dusting and the folding, Ruiz gave Neal a hard time for two weeks, something by the way you should have nipped in the bud from the get-go." Peter looked sufficiently guilty so El continued, "It all came to a head this morning at the docks when Ruiz shoved Neal into a wall. Neal being Neal, grabbed his wallet and when he got back to the office, he ordered pizzas for everyone. Somehow Ruiz found out…and that's when we ran out of household chores."

Peter smiled, understanding El's domestic duty interrogation routine – he had experience with it.

"Yeah, well, regrettably for Neal, some of the White Collar team have manners and a couple of them called Ruiz to thank him for the special treat. And after a junior agent that had particularly enjoyed the barbeque chicken supreme, shared an elevator ride with Ruiz to the 21st floor… well no great surprise here, Ruiz was blazing with anger. I saw him come through the front door, actually, I heard him, shouting at Neal. Neal was out of his chair at the same time I was out of mine, but fortunately, Ruiz's fist had a lot shorter distance to travel than my legs."

"Fortunately? You're okay with Ruiz punching Neal?"

Peter nodded while El looked ready to let fly. "Honey, if Ruiz hadn't punched Neal, it would be very likely that I'd be driving him back to the SuperMax tonight. Because Ruiz had punched Neal in full view of the entire White Collar division, I was able to cut a deal with Hughes, rationalizing that they were both in the wrong. I offered to return Ruiz the money for the pizzas. He agreed not to do anything about his stolen wallet that had miraculously appeared back in his jacket pocket while talking to Hughes. And I wouldn't be pressing charges against Ruiz for assaulting my CI in the middle of an FBI office. Without the punch, El, Neal would be going back."

"Well, when you put it like that, it's Neal's lucky day I guess." El said not too convincingly.

"Dodged another bullet. But his luck won't hold out forever. So I'm going to give him a very stern reminder that his chances are all but used up."

El got up from the table and pulled Peter into a quick hug before picking up the empty coffee mugs. "You'd better put the poor boy out of his misery."

"Yeah," Peter sighed. He pulled back from his beautiful wife and called up the stairs, "Neal! Get down here."

Neal sauntered down the stairs and met Peter in the living room with his all impressive smile and a grace that didn't belong on someone in so much trouble. "Ah Peter. You're home. How was your day?"

It was absolutely the wrong thing to say. El rolled her eyes. _Oh Neal you silly boy._ Peter grabbed Neal and gave him two very hard swats across his butt.

"Sorry Neal. I didn't hear you. My ears are still ringing from where Hughes chewed me out! You want to try that again?" Peter stood over Neal with his hands on his hips.

"No. I'm good thanks," Neal replied weakly as he slowly crept back until he was able to safely lower himself onto the couch.

El had seen enough so she disappeared into the kitchen leaving her husband to take care of their wayward charge.

-W-C-

Peter paced back and forth across the living room floor, hands on hips, trying to calm himself down. He'd been fine until Neal got him all frazzled again in a matter of seconds.

"I was quite clear last time we had this discussion Neal as to what would be the consequences of your reckless, juvenile behaviour. You remember that conversation don't you?"

"Possibly." Neal's brain was fast tracking solutions to get him out of his current predicament but it was always a lost cause when he was battling Peter.

"If you can't remember Neal, I'll be happy to remind you before we take care of your latest offence." Peter had stopped in front of Neal looking like he was only seconds away from making good on his threat.

"No. No it's all good. I remember now. No reminders necessary." Neal sat chewing his fingernails. "How many?"

Peter stood with his arms crossed sporting a no-nonsense look across his face. "I think twelve will serve the purpose to be a sufficient reminder to cut out the boneheaded stunts." Neal watched in horror as Peter unbuckled his belt, slipped it out through the loops and folded it in half. He tapped the back of the arm chair. "Let's go Neal."

"Can't you just stick to what works, Peter? Just maybe put me over your knee. You've got a very firm hand." Neal was using his whining voice that really irked Peter.

"Not this time, Neal. You've well and truly earned yourself a session with my belt," _and then some._ "Hop up!"

Neal just sat staring at the sight of Peter holding a menacing strip of leather that would soon be landing on his butt. "No thank you Peter, I'll give it a miss if it's alright with you."

Peter grabbed Neal off the couch, landing him on his feet, turned him sideways and brought the belt down across his backside three times before releasing him.

_Apparently not alright with you!_ Neal stood before his partner, hands rubbing at his butt. "Crap Peter that stung!"

"Yeah Buddy. Do you think it's going to sting much less when some beast of an inmate has punched you in the gut five times before the guards even bother to get off their stools?" Peter didn't want to, couldn't, say what he was really thinking might happen to Neal when the guards backs were turned.

They stood in silence for the next minute or two while Neal processed the information and waited for the sting to subside from his butt. Accepting that Peter wasn't going to relent anytime soon, he moved past the older man and stood at the back of the arm chair. "Just nine more to go then?"

"Twelve Neal."

"No Peter! You already gave me three." Neal protested.

"The three were for your smart arse comment and you know it. It's still twelve." Peter pushed gently on Neal's back till he had his hands on the seat of the chair.

"It's hardly fair and I want my objection noted." Neal tried to put as much conviction into his tone as his nerves allowed him.

"I'll note your objection if you note mine." Peter pulled back his arm and walloped Neal across his backside with the belt."

Neal quickly straightened from his position over the chair and turned once again to face Peter. "Owww Peter! That was a lot harder than the others!"

"The others were for a smart comment Neal. These are for trying your level best to get your butt thrown back in prison."

Peter turned Neal around and guided him back over the chair. Without delay, he brought his belt down twice in quick succession. "Any more objections, Neal?" The young con grimaced but remained silent.

Peter gave Neal another three good hard whacks with the belt before Neal couldn't hold back any longer. The younger man jumped out of the way of a fourth whack and spun to face his handler.

"You know. I think you may be wrong about needing twelve. I feel like you've already made a significant impression on what I'm supposed to remember the next time I want to have a little fun. Six is actually the right number. I guess you can't always be right." Neal smiled as he stepped away from the chair.

Peter grabbed the back of his collar and hauled the young man over the chair. Was Neal going out of his way to grate on Peter's nerves in the middle of a punishment? Surely he had more sense? Peter considered that thought while continuing to wallop Neal's behind. He got three more in before Neal stood once again.

"I'm glad that's over with Peter." Neal tried a contrite tone and kept his eyes downcast. "I've certainly learnt my lesson." Peter didn't buy it. "I'll be more thoughtful next time."

"Neal."

"What?"

"It's not over."

"Why not? I counted twelve. You've obviously lost track." His hands were on his butt, desperate for this this to end.

"I only counted six Neal so back over you go!" Peter countered.

"That's not fair Peter. You've already given me ni…"

Peter raised his eyebrows at Neal, willing him to continue the statement. Neal shook his head, turned, bent over and braced for what he hoped would be a final three.

Peter brought the last three down with a little more force than the others hoping to leave a truly lasting impression. "Okay Neal, you can get up now." When Neal didn't make a move, Peter gently pulled up the younger man. This time Neal had genuine remorse in his slightly wet eyes. Gone was the cocky attitude and smart retorts from moments before. Twelve had been the right number, Peter nodded with satisfaction.

-W-C-

El walked back into the dining area and placed the freshly washed napkins in the sideboard drawer. Neal was on the receiving end of a Peter lecture. "No more crap, Neal. You can't afford to pull the stunts you have in the past. I've only got so many get out of jail free cards left for you. How many more times is Hughes going to let me put a 'please let me take care of Neal's latest misdemeanor myself' card on the table before he announces enough is enough and it's back to prison you go? Tough luck that you have family and friends here that will pay an equally difficult price just because you didn't think!" Peter wasn't shouting but his words were driving straight through Neal like he had a megaphone.

Peter took a deep breath and pointed at Neal with the folded belt. "You will go straight to bed after dinner."

"Yes Peter."

"And to pay me back for the pizzas, every Saturday morning for the next month, you will do extra chores around the house here and at June's place."

"Can't I just give you the money instead?"

"NO." Peter continued to point with the belt. "Tomorrow you can weed out the front garden and repaint the doghouse."

"Yes Peter."

"And Neal…this is going to be the deal from now on so take careful note. You do something stupid to put your life in danger or something that could see you thrown back in prison and you get this every time. Am I clear?"

"Yes Sir." That was a first! Peter was a little taken back at the title. On the other hand however, he liked the sound of it, something he could get used to.

Peter looked over at El who was waiting patiently by the dining table. With his eyes, he asked her if she would mind taking over. She gave an almost indiscernible nod.

"Okay. I'm going to go have a long hot shower." Peter eyed the young man standing before him. "Please try to stay out of trouble till I get back."

Neal let out a long sigh after Peter left the room but he didn't move from his spot. He didn't realize until he felt himself being pulled into a hug that El had come over to stand with him. Neal rested his head on Elizabeth's shoulder. It felt right. They stayed that way for a good five minutes until El eventually asked, "You okay now honey?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for putting up with me all afternoon." Neal pulled away and followed El into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.

El turned on the oven and pulled out a casserole dish from the top pantry. "So young one," Neal looked up, "you were spanked, lectured, are being sent to bed without any dessert and even given extra chores as part of your punishment." El looked at Neal with a mischievous smile. "What _do_ you call someone who has that type of parental control over you, Neal?"

_Boss, friend, handler, big brother, father, parole officer?_ _Peter? The one person in my life I trust the most … _Neal got lost in his thoughts before deciding on an answer. _By any other name_. "Dad, I guess." Neal smiled cheekily at Elizabeth…"Mom?"

Elizabeth chuckled as she gave his behind a swat. "Step-mom maybe I could handle. But not the wicked type you hear. Now come and help me get the dinner ready."

"Yes ma'am." He would have said Mom but he wanted to protect his backside.

-W-C-

El sat enjoying every mouthful of the chicken pie. It was truly delectable. Her assistant had done an amazing job of taking a simple dish and turning it into a masterpiece.

Neal forked the last mouthful of his pie into his mouth. He'd been chatting throughout dinner, mostly about his plans for painting a mural on the side of Satchmo's kennel. It was a very distracting conversation to listen to as he continually shifted in his seat, unable to find a comfortable position for the entire meal. Shortly he would be sent to bed and then someone would sneak up a little while later to check that he was sleeping soundly.

Peter sipped at his wine, chatting a little about work and a lot about his plans for the weekend.

El studied her two boys. They were as much father and son as her and Peter were husband and wife. In every sense of the word at some point during the last year, they had evolved into that particular relationship. For two very intelligent men, they were quite oblivious to it all. El decided she would have to buy them both matching t-shirts or something glaringly obvious for Christmas because they were the kind of pair that would need hitting over the head to see what was literally sitting across the table from them.

Neal finished his meal. Peter looked patiently across and waited. Neal got up, "Goodnight Elizabeth." He kissed her on the cheek.

"Goodnight Neal."

Then the young man did something El would need to add to her never forget/always remember fondly moments. Neal walked around the table and kissed Peter on his head. "Goodnight." _Dad_. And while he didn't speak the words, Peter had heard them anyway.

"Goodnight, Son."

El packed up the dishes off the table, which was a little trickier than her early jobs. For this time she had tears in her eyes.


End file.
